


Release

by Anonymous



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Desperation, Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Multi, Omorashi, Urination, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Three short fics about three nasty, feral wizards.
Relationships: Astrid/Caleb Widogast, Astrid/Eodwulf/Caleb Widogast, Eodwulf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44
Collections: anonymous





	1. Astrid/Caleb

**Author's Note:**

> If you really think about it, this is all Liam's fault.

Astrid is warm and solid in Caleb’s lap as she kisses him deeply and rocks down gently against him. One of her hands is in his hair, and the other is cupping his cheek. Her skirt is hiked up to her thighs so she’s not kneeling on the fabric, and one of his hands is resting just under the hem of it, fingers stroking the soft, thick hair on her thigh.

When Astrid pulls back, he whines a bit and she flicks his nose in admonishment.

“Hush,” Astrid says, “I need to take a quick break. Don't start whining, I'll be back soon. I just need to piss.”

So much of her weight is still on Caleb’s lap that when his hips try to twitch upwards, he can’t pretend like he doesn’t know what she's talking about when she says, “Oh?”

His face goes red and she rolls her hips down into his, purposeful and teasing. She leans forward to kiss his cheek, and he can't bring himself to even look in her direction.

“Why are you so red, _Schatz_?” Her breath is hot on the shell of his ear, and he shivers. “I know you’re interested in _something_ because I can _feel_ it. So why not tell me? Are you _embarrassed_?” and she rolls her hips down again on the last word. 

Caleb keeps his mouth shut tight and tries to will himself to calm down, to not think about how she's not wearing underwear and she's sitting on him-

“Mm,” she sighs, “_gods,_ I’m so full. It almost _hurts_. I really waited too long to speak up.” Her arms wrap around his shoulders as she leans forward, resting her cheek on his shoulder and pressing her lips to his throat. “I might not be able to move, _Schatz_. I might just have to piss myself right here in your lap.”

Caleb can’t stifle the moan that comes out of him, and his hands hold her hips down as he grinds up against her. He's still wearing his pants, and they're feeling much too confining at the moment. Even through the fabric, though, her cunt is hot and wet and- gods, he wants to be in her, to feel her leaking as she fucks herself on his cock, to see her biting her lip and trying so hard not to lose control and finally moaning when she can't hold back anymore.

"So that's it, hm? You'd like it if I relieved myself right here, soaking you? You're _filthy,_ Caleb Widogast." There's no disgust or reproach in her voice, just teasing and a little bit of strain. "You'll have to beg me for it, sweet thing. I won't debase myself just because you _want_ me to. You need to _convince_ me."

"Ah-Astrid-" He's almost dizzy with arousal, so hard it's starting to hurt, and she's still grinding slowly against him. "Astrid, please, I-"

She _tsks_ and nips at his neck. "You can beg so much prettier than that and we both know it."

His fingers are surely digging into her hard enough to bruise, and he'll feel bad later but right now it's all he can do to keep from coming in his pants.

"Astrid, Astrid, _bitte,_ I- I want you to piss on my lap, please, _Schatz,_ I want to feel it and see the relief on your face and-" His mind goes blank as she settles back on his thighs and guides one of his hands between her legs. She's nearly dripping wet, cunt slick and hot, and she lets out a small noise when his calloused fingers brush over her clit. 

"_Ah-_" She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut. "_Scheiße,_ fuck. Oh, Caleb, I-"

Her breath catches as he slips two fingers into her and curls them slowly, feeling where her bladder is so _full-_

His other hand leaves her hip to rest over her bladder, palm covering the area, and he presses slowly and carefully in time with the curling of his fingers. Astrid gasps and digs her nails into his shoulder so hard he's sure she's drawn blood. He's rewarded with a small spurt of warmth against his palm, and he feels her tighten around his fingers, trying to hold back.

"You're so sweet when you're desperate," he murmurs into her short brown hair.

"Shut up," she gasps, hips rocking down to take more of his fingers even as her cunt tightens around him. "Pervert. Basta-_ah-_ard-"

"Look at me," he whispers, "please, _Liebling_, I want to see your face."

Astrid lifts her chin, and she's flushed and breathing hard as she looks him in the eye.

"Let go," he says, hushed, and she shakes her head.

"_Make me._"

Gods, her voice is low and rough and she's challenging him even as she has two fingers in her and is about to lose control of her bladder and _oh,_ but he is so very in love.

"If that's how it's going to be…" He kisses her, short and chaste, and he's certain she can see the lovestruck look on his face when he pulls back. "Ready, _Schatz?_"

"Oh, shut up and get on with i-_ah, fuck-_" 

He's fucking into her with his fingers _hard_, now, as he digs his thumb into her bladder, and with every shaking breath she's cursing him, words running together and she gets more and more desperate. She's struggling to keep her eyes open and on him, but she isn't hiding her face and _gods_ but she's beautiful when she's in agony like this-

Astrid is clinging to his shoulder with one hand as the other slides down her stomach to touch her clit. The tips of her fingers keep bumping Caleb's hand as she rubs small, quick circles and her breath is coming faster and faster. She's definitely starting to leak, just a little, dribbling every time Caleb curls his fingers inside of her, and her cunt is almost _painfully_ tight around them. The angle is awkward and his wrist is starting to ache but Astrid is so close and he _needs_ to see this through-

The noise she makes as she comes is choked and desperate, but Caleb is focused on her face. She bites her lower lip and squeezes her eyes shut as her entire face goes tense, and then all at once the tension is gone from her face and her body and he feels hot liquid gush against his hand. Astrid makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whimper and that combined with the wetness soaking into his pants off what finally has Caleb coming nearly untouched.

"_Astrid,_" he chokes out, but he's not even sure she can hear him. She's still emptying her bladder, looking so relieved and making small noises and he's absolutely soaked and disgusting, pants wet with piss and cum. And somehow he keeps fucking her through it, keeps pushing on her bladder until he feels the stream start to weaken against his palm, until Astrid comes again and the last few dribbles of urine leave her.

She tips forward, forehead coming to rest on his shoulder, and as he pulls his fingers from inside of her she twitches and whines. Her arm moves slowly as she continues to touch herself, breathing hard as her hips twitch minutely. Caleb takes the chance to look down and oh, _gods_ they've made a mess, her skirt is wet and dark and clinging to her legs, and his pants are in a similar state. The warmth is starting to fade and the fabric is becoming cool on his heated skin, but with the hand she was resting on Caleb's shoulder, Astrid casts Prestidigitation before coming a final time.

"_Scheiße,_" she pants, "fuck, Caleb, that was-"

He nuzzles his face into her hair and hums in agreement. She's warm and sweaty and she smells like soap and sex and _piss_ even though it's been mostly cleaned up and he loves her, _he loves her-_

"Let me help clean you up?" He asks, and Astrid nods, face still hidden. "We can take a bath and I'll wash you, okay?"

"Mmkay," she mumbles, "not sure I can walk though. Legs are shaking."

"Hey," Caleb uses his clean hand to stroke through her hair. He tugs ever so slightly and she raises her face to look at him. Her cheeks are red and she's managing to somehow look simultaneously embarrassed and blissed-out. He kisses her- how could he not?- and she's the first to pull back but it's as reluctantly as he feels.

"Clean me up, _ja?_ Then I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your life."

He kisses her again, a quick, chaste thing, before she climbs off of him. His pants are still wet in spots and if he was a younger man, he'd already be hard again. Astrid takes his hand, and it's a bit slick with her cum, but he doesn't complain. 

Caleb draws them a bath and, true to his word, cleans her up, kissing her and touching her softly through it all.

"Thank you," he whispers as she kisses the hollow of his throat. "_Ich liebe dich._"

"Oh, you know, I wouldn't say _any time,_ but. You might be able to twist my am into doing that again." She hums sleepily against his skin. "_Ich liebe dich auch._"

She doesn't, in the end, fuck him within an inch of his life, but she does fall asleep with her arms around him and in a lot of ways, that's better.


	2. Eodwulf/Caleb

"Caleb," Eodwulf purrs, "nasty little thing, wake up." His hips roll against Caleb's ass as he gropes his chest. Caleb groans and tries to roll forward onto his stomach, but Wulf's arm stops him, keeping his back flush to Wulf's chest.

"I was sleeping." His voice is gravelly with sleep and his words are just a bit slurred.

"I know." Wulf's voice is thick and sweet like molasses. "I was too. But now I'm awake and I think you'll be glad I woke you as well." He's half-hard against Caleb's ass and grinding against him lazily.

"Mmf?" Caleb's response is more of a grumble with a question mark than anything, but it gets his point across. His still-half-asleep brain is struggling to follow what his boyfriend is saying, much less what he _means_.

"I need to piss," Wulf murmurs into his ear. "My bladder is so full it _aches_ and I just _don't_ know what to _do_. I thought you could help." 

It's embarrassing that Caleb moans softly at what is so _clearly_ a setup, but he blames it on being suddenly woken up. His voice is raspy when he replies, "And what help do you think I can provide you, hm?"

"I think there are a few things you can do. I think you could hold my cock while I use the piss-pot. Or I think you could let me piss on you right here, like this, because you're a pervert, aren't you? You're _exactly_ the kind of degenerate who would _love_ for me to drench him in my piss."

Caleb whimpers, squeezing his thighs together as he feels himself starting to get wet.

"Mm, that's what I thought. What'll it be? Hold me, or let me empty my bladder on your filthy body?

"But… The bed…"

Wulf rocks against him a little harder, lets him feel just how hard he's getting. "Remember that these sheets are brand-new? They were, ah, _specially made_. Usually for children who wet the bed, but it really wasn't too much extra to buy a larger size."

"And _who_ is the pervert, again?"

"Still you, filthy thing." Wulf bites his ear, hard, and Caleb barely muffles a cry. He's hiding it well but Wulf's voice is a bit strained, and Caleb imagines he has to be pretty uncomfortable if his bladder woke him up.

"I'm quite warm and comfortable right here. Perhaps you should get up and piss on your own. You don't need me for that, surely."

"Mm, but that wasn't one of the options I gave you. The longer you take to decide, the closer I am to losing control. And that'll make the decision for you." He sounds so cocky, so arrogant and _sure_ of himself that Caleb can't help but poke at him.

"So you are either going to piss yourself in bed, or you will get up and use the chamberpot like a normal person and in either scenario, you need me present?"

"In either scenario you _want_ to be present. I know you, Caleb Widogast." His hand slides down Caleb's stomach, stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. "If I move my hand any lower, I _know_ I'll find you dripping wet. And you can tell whatever lies you want, but I know it's because you get off on even the _idea_ of being degraded. Of being put in your place."

He wants to argue, to play coy and innocent, but he's tired and turned on and Wulf's hand is massaging Caleb's own bladder. And while he doesn't _need_ to piss at the moment, it's still distracting.

"And if you are correct? If I _do_ enjoy being treated like filth, what does that make you for indulging me?"

"A loving boyfriend." Wulf bites his shoulder and drags Caleb's hips closer using the hand on his bladder, grinding his hard cock against Caleb's ass. His voice still sounds strained, but he sounds smug, too, like he's won something already. "You're doing quite a bit of stalling. Do you want me to piss on you but you're embarrassed to ask? Is that why you're dragging this out?" 

"That does not sound like me at all."

"Come on, _Caleb_. You want this and we both know it. But I'm not going to let you have it until you _ask nicely_." He's holding Caleb's hip so tight it feels like it might bruise, and _oh_ but Caleb hopes it does. It’s hard to tell if Wulf is grinding against him or squirming, but either way, he’s rubbing against Caleb in a way that’s making him even wetter. And he _wants_ for Eodwulf to soak him, to climb up on him, press against him, and _let go_. He wants to feel the hot liquid soaking into the fabric of his pajamas and pooling beneath him

__

__

"Please," he says softly, breathily. "Please, Eodwulf."

"Please what?" He bites Caleb's neck and _sucks_ and oh, that will certainly be a reminder of tonight for a while.

Caleb squirms against him, half in discomfort and half to tease. "You know what I want."

_ _"And _you_ know what _I_ want. Beg me for it, _Schatz_. Degrade yourself for me."_ _

_ _Caleb moans, rolls his hips back into Wulf's, and bites his lower lip. "Please piss on me, use me, make me filthy and treat me like I'm nothing, _Scheiße, Wulf, ich brauche es, ich brauche deinen Piss, jetzt, **bitte-**”__ _

_ _Wulf groans in his ear, low and throaty, and in a flash he’s on top of Caleb, sitting on his hips and rutting against his stomach. Then Wulf is grabbing his wrist, guiding it to his bladder, and Caleb gasps at how it’s so full he can _feel_ it, swollen and firm. He presses in and Wulf hisses, grinding down against him._ _

_ _"Please, Wulf, please soak me, let go right here, I _want_ it." He kneads into Wulf's bladder as he begs, thumb digging in, and Wulf _whines_._ _

_ _"P-prove how badly you want it, fil-filth." He rocks his hips down against Caleb, and he's _so_ hard. Caleb presses his thumb in harder, then his entire palm, and Wulf chokes out a cry as the front of his pajama pants darken. It's just a small spot, a leak, but it means Wulf is close to breaking._ _

_ _"Oh _please_, Eodwulf, use me, soak me, piss yourself right here on top of me because we both know that's all I am, _ja?_ Just something for you to use however you want." His palm digs into Wulf's bladder before bringing his other hand to his dick, stroking it through the thin fabric of his pants._ _

_ _“Th-that’s right,” Wulf growls, “you’re _mine_.” He leans forward, into the pressure of Caleb’s hand, and with a gasp, he lets go. The small spot on his pants darkens and spreads quickly, the fabric dampening under Caleb’s hand. The heat of Wulf’s piss as it soaks through his pajamas and into Caleb’s has him rolling his hips up and whining while Wulf is breathing hard, moaning as he relieves himself. _ _

_ _There’s a soft hissing sound, just barely audible over the sounds the both of them are making, and Caleb feels like he might come untouched. There’s a pool of warmth beneath his ass, where the sheets have stopped the urine from soaking in. He almost wants to laugh- Wulf may have wanted this more than he did, buying special sheets just so he could do this. And Wulf is still hard and pressing against his hand even as he pisses himself. He strokes him slowly through the wet fabric, and Wulf chokes on a gasp._ _

_ _“_Fuck-_”_ _

_ _“Thank you,” Caleb breathes out, mind hazy with arousal, “thank you, Eodwulf, use me, _use_ me, that’s it-”_ _

_ _With a low growl, Wulf reaches behind himself and between Caleb’s legs to rub roughly against his clit. It’s only moments before Caleb is coming, convulsing beneath Wulf’s weight and crying out. He feels absolutely lost in the heat and wet and _pleasure_, and when he comes back to himself and Wulf is _still_ emptying his bladder, Caleb moans softly. _ _

_ _His hand is just a little shaky as he pulls Wulf's cock free of his pants and watches, transfixed, as urine pools on and soaks into the fabric of his sleep shirt, wet and warm against his skin. Wulf is nearly empty, his stream weakening until there's barely a trickle leaking out of him. He's breathing hard, and he drops forward, his hands on either side of Caleb's head. Without a word, Caleb cranes his neck up and catches Wulf's lips with his._ _

_ _As they kiss, Caleb's hand wraps around Wulf's cock and he begins to strokes him, quick and sloppy. It doesn't take much to tip him over the edge, and as he comes, Wulf groans into Caleb's mouth, then collapses on top of him. There's a wet _squelch_ as the puddle of piss beneath them is disturbed, and they both laugh._ _

_ _"Gods," Wulf breathes out, "I am _such_ a genius."_ _

_ _"You are a pervert, is what you are."_ _

_ _"And?" He nips at Caleb's jaw. "Are you going to complain?"_ _

_ _"No," Caleb sighs, and kisses Wulf again. "We really ought to get this cleaned up."_ _

_ _"Mm. Watch this." Eodwulf traces a symbol atop the sheets and murmurs an incantation, and suddenly the sheets and their pajamas are dry._ _

_ _Caleb raises an eyebrow. "How much did you-"_ _

_ _"Enough that Astrid _really_ doesn't need to know." He grins down at Caleb before rolling off of him and wrapping his arms around Caleb's waist. "All good?"_ _

_ _Caleb nods, and turns towards him, nuzzling against his chest. "All good. Now quiet, I now have to get up early and take a shower."_ _

_ _Wulf snorts, and holds Caleb closer. They sleep uninterrupted until morning._ _


	3. Astrid/Eodwulf/Caleb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter contains a roleplayed captor/captive scenario, but everything is consensual)

The room is dark- the curtains drawn over the window are ratty, but thick enough to block any street lights that might still be burning, despite the late hour. Caleb knows how long he's been in here, of course he does, but knowing the number itself doesn't mean quite as much as knowing it's been long enough that his back is starting to hurt and his ass is starting to go numb from where he's tied to this uncomfortable wooden chair. His wrists are crossed and bound behind the back of it, and his legs are tied to those of the chair so he can't fully close them. It's a bad position to be in, made all the worse by the fact that his captors keep coming in to give him water. 

At first it was welcome, an unexpected kindness in what was sure to be a very long, very unpleasant interrogation. Then the water kept coming, someone coming in every half-hour carrying a waterskin and holding it to his lips. After the third time he tried to refuse, pressed his lips together, turned his head away, but they had just grabbed his chin, forced him to tilt his head up and poured the water so that he could either drink it or be soaking wet. And he didn't know how long he might be here, so sitting in a dark, cool room while wet didn't sound like an ideal plan. So he drank.

The fourth time he played along, all the while thinking of ways he might be able to get out of this mess. The water sloshed in his stomach, making him grimace. This was by far the strangest interrogation he'd ever been involved in.

The fifth time, his stomach started to hurt when he heard the turn of the doorknob. His captor walked up to him, same as every other time, held the waterskin toward him, and stood silently. He couldn't see their face, not with the hood throwing their face into shadow in the already-dark room.

"Please," he said, and he expected his voice to be raspy, but apparently all of the water he'd been drinking had kept his throat from going dry. "I don't want any more."

The figure had thrust the waterskin at him, a silent but clearly-communicated '_I don't care._' 

"I don't feel well," Caleb said, and it was only half a lie. His stomach felt full, uncomfortably so, and every time he moved he could feel the water sloshing inside of himself. The figure just shook the waterskin slightly and pushed it closer to him. A dull panic started to rise in the back of his mind, a fear that he'd be forced to drink and drink and drink and- he never would have thought _drinking water_ could be an effective torture tool but, well. What they say about learning something new every day would seem to have some truth behind it.

"Please," he said again, and his voice had a tinge of desperation to it, "I don't want any more, I'll- I'll talk-"

He didn't _mean_ it, of course- they'd barely had him there for 3 hours, and he'd been trained to withstand weeks of this sort of treatment. But it had been years and years since that training, and he'd lost his edge. He wasn't going to talk, but if being slapped around for a while meant he got a break from having to drink water, he'd gladly take it.

The person cocked their head like they were considering, then stepped forward. They grabbed his chin like they had before, forced his head up and his mouth open, and started to pour. Caleb coughed and spluttered, and was surprised by the relief he felt at most of the water splashing onto him and the floor, rather than down his throat. He coughed and coughed as the person took their leave yet again, but he couldn't help feeling a bit victorious.

And now he's sitting in the dark, waiting for the sixth skin of water to come through the door. He clears his throat, coughs up a little more water, and tries to focus on his surroundings. The cold, wet fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest. The quiet of the room, so heavy that the sound of his own breathing is deafening. The smell of must and old wood. The slowly-growing pressure in his bladder-

No. Start over.

The faint taste of dust in his mouth. The slight burning in the back of his throat where water went up his nose. The dull sound of approaching footsteps.

He has just enough time to school his face into something imitating fear before the door swings open and the two figures walk in.

"Awfully dark in here," Eodwulf says conversationally, looking around. "It must be hard for you to see anything."

He snaps his fingers and the room is immediately bathed in painfully bright light. Caleb flinches instinctively and squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't help as much as he'd hoped- he's been in the dark for several hours and the intensity of the light hurts like a headache, even through his closed eyelids. He hears a sharp, short inhale, and then-

Astrid sneezes. He knows it’s her because it’s so _loud_, he doesn’t know how a person that small can make so much noise but she _can_ and _does_. Before he can stop himself, he laughs, just a little bit, and that was a mistake in several ways.

First, his bladder twinges painfully at the movement, and his mind is brought back to how _full_ he is. Then there’s a cold, calloused hand gripping his chin hard, forcing him to tilt his head up. 

“What’s so funny?” Astrid hisses, and Caleb gingerly cracks an eye open to look at her. Despite her tone, he can tell she’s just barely hiding a smile of her own, but he admires her dedication to the scene. He draws in a careful breath, then exhales, centering himself. He opens his other eye, still squinting in the light, and tries to look meek.

“Nothing, sir. I’m very sorry.” The angle she has his head tilted at forces him to bare his throat, and he’s not surprised when he feels Wulf’s big, warm hand come to rest on it. He’s not choking Caleb, not yet, just reminding him of where he is and what his place is. Astrid releases his chin, lets his head drop down, and straddles his lap. He gasps at the sudden weight of her on his legs, the pressure of her stomach and hips on his as she presses herself forward, closer to him.

“So,” she says, almost in a whisper, “you’re ready to talk?”

“Didn’t think you’d break so easily,” Wulf says, “or at least not so soon. Who would’ve thought all it would take was a little hydration?” There’s a _thump_ as he drops one knee to the floor, and his hands find Caleb’s wrists. He gently pries Caleb’s fingers apart from where they’re clasped together and the prickly feeling of pins and needles tingles through his hands from being held in place for so long.

(They didn’t actually tie him up; restraints make all of them anxious, especially for extended periods of time. Instead they told him to keep his arms together behind him and his legs against those of the chair, and he had listened. No matter how badly he wanted to squirm or press his legs together he had stayed still because _gods_, even when they’re playing out a torture scene he still wants to be _good_ for them.)

“Your hands are free but I’m leaving your legs tied. I don’t think you’ve earned that relief yet.”

“Thank you, sir,” Caleb says, but doesn’t move his hands from behind the chair. Just because Wulf let him stop holding them together doesn’t mean he’s allowed to touch. 

“Don’t thank me, scum. Maybe I untied your hands so I could break your fingers. I certainly didn’t do it for you.”

_Oh_, but Wulf plays the role of captor so well. Caleb’s arousal has been simmering for hours, a low, buzzing heat in the background, but now it’s starting to intensify and rise. He tries and fails not to squirm, and with Astrid pinning him down, his movement doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“And what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

“Just shifting, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, you’ll _be_ sorry,” Astrid growls, and she grinds her hips forward against his bladder. Caleb cries out before he can stop himself, and curls in on himself as much as he can. 

“What’s the matter?” Wulf has a smile in his voice, and Caleb doesn’t have to see it to know it’s all bright, sharp teeth. “Don’t tell me you need to piss.” He’s still kneeling behind Caleb’s chair, and Caleb flinches when Wulf’s arms wrap around his hips and one of his hands finds the swell of his bladder. His fingers just rest there, not pushing- at least, not yet. Wulf hums curiously from behind him.

“Interesting. Almost like you’ve been drinking lots of water for the past few hours.”

“What a strange thing that would be to do to someone,” Caleb deadpans, and pays for it immediately. Wulf’s fingers press in, hard and quick, and the pressure is only there for an instant but _oh_, it hurts, and Caleb has grit his teeth to keep from leaking.

“Apologies, my hands tend to slip when filthy little traitors act like smartasses.” Wulf’s hand stays resting on his stomach, a promise and a threat all in one. 

Caleb draws in a ragged breath that catches when Astrid puts her lips to his ear and whispers, “We’ll let you relieve yourself if you’ll tell us what we want to know. This can be very easy for all of us.”

“I- do not know why I’m even here, why you took me-”

Astrid bites his neck, not gently, and he gasps. Her breath is hot on his skin when she says, “Don’t lie to us, little traitor. You know why you’re here. And you’re going to tell us what we want to know.” 

She doesn’t have to say, _”Or else,”_ not when her lips are on his pulse point and one of her hands is on his neck. Without thinking about it, Caleb leans into her hand just a bit, putting a tiny bit more pressure on his throat, and she smirks against his jaw. 

“Do you know what I think, Wulf? I think our prisoner might be enjoying this.”

“I’d expect as much from such a disgusting liar. It makes sense that he’d be a pervert as well.” His fingers press _so_ lightly against Caleb’s stomach, but even the suggestion of pressure is enough to make him whine low in his throat. Wulf’s nose brushes the base of Caleb’s skull, and his breath is hot on the back of his neck as he says, “I bet you’re soaking wet, aren’t you? If I were to put my hand between your thighs I’d find you drenched, wouldn’t I?”

“You _did_ spill water all over me, so-”

Wulf bites the back of his neck, harder even than Astrid had, and Caleb can’t stop the dribble of urine that leaks out as he gasps in pain and surprise. His back arches and his hands find the hem of Wulf’s shirt and he grips it as hard as he can because he needs _something-_

“What did I say about being a smartass?” Wulf’s hand trails down from Caleb’s stomach to the waistband of his pants and slips underneath. He barks out a laugh as his fingers brush against the coarse, wiry hair.

“No smallclothes? Gods, you really _are_ a pervert, aren’t you.” His fingers dip lower, and he curses under his breath.

“I knew you’d be wet, _Schatz_, but this is-” Wulf sounds breathy and awed before he cuts himself off, clears his throat, and slips back into his persona. “Disgusting. This is disgusting. Exactly the behavior I’d expect from a dissident, but still disappointing.” His middle and ring fingers rub slowly over Caleb’s dick, slick and swollen, before dipping lower to his hole. Caleb says a quiet prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be watching over this lewd mess for being wet enough that Wulf can’t tell he leaked. As he tenses in anticipation of having Wulf’s fingers inside him, it puts pressure on his bladder and he groans quietly. He’s full enough that it _hurts_, a dull, growing pain that he can’t do anything about.

“Please,” he chokes out, “I need-”

“Need what? To be fucked? To piss? To apologize for being _scum_ and a _traitor_ and tell us where your filthy friends are hiding?” Astrid is so _mean_ it makes him throb, and her teeth on his earlobe send pleasant chills down his spine.

“No,” he says, “no, I’ll never tell you where they are-”

“Pity,” Astrid says, and grinds her palm into his bladder, _hard_. He chokes back a cry, but Wulf’s fingers are _right there_ and there’s no way he didn’t feel-

“_Traitorous filth_,” Wulf hisses, “_disgusting scum_, did you just _piss_ on me?”

Caleb can barely move, trapped under Astrid as he is, and even he’s not sure if he’s trying to move towards or away Wulf’s fingers. It hurts so much, trying not to leak more, even though it would feel _so good_ to just _let go-_

Wulf presses both fingers into him, curls them to press against Caleb’s bladder from inside of him, and growls, “_I asked you a question._”

“N-no-”

“_No_, you didn’t just piss on my hand?” He thrusts his fingers into Caleb, hard, and he’s so wet that there’s no resistance at all but the _pressure-_

“No, I-” Caleb shuts his eyes tight, draws in breath after gasping breath, trying to keep himself under control, trying not to wet himself. “I’m not- I wouldn’t-”

“Wouldn’t what? You need to speak up, filth.” His fingers curl again and Caleb leaks a little more. It’s getting harder to stop himself, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last-

“I’m- ah, shit, _shit, Wulf, please, please, I need to-_” He’s faintly aware of tears in his eyes, of Astrid sucking bruises into his neck, of Wulf’s heavy breathing from behind him, but all of his focus is on holding it in, staying in control-

“Then do it. Piss yourself like the wretched, filthy traitor you are. Come on,” he grinds his palm against Caleb’s dick as his fingers curl into him, pressing hard against his bladder, and he tries to hold out, he really does, but-

His eyes roll back with relief as he starts to piss, and this time there’s no holding back. Wulf fucks him through it, and he probably comes but the pleasure gets lost in the relief and the warmth and sound of liquid spattering onto the floor. He can hear Astrid whispering something to him but he can’t make it out, his head is fuzzy with pleasure as he empties his bladder beneath her. It feels like it lasts forever, like he’s never going to be empty, but the flow finally starts to weaken until he’s only dribbling against Wulf’s palm, small spurts of urine as Wulf continues to fuck into him. 

Astrid’s thumbs brush over his cheeks, and he realizes he’s crying. She’s wiping away the tears and whispering to him.

“-so well, you did so well, _Liebling_, so good for us, I love you so much-”

Wulf’s fingers still inside him, and he nuzzles his cheek against Caleb’s neck. “Such a good boy, so fucking good, _Schatz_, you were wonderful.”

Caleb nods, and lets himself lean forward to rest his forehead on Astrid’s shoulder and cry.

Time passes in a bit of a haze, and he’s aware of them helping him up, cleaning up the worst of the mess with Prestidigitation, carrying him to the bath they’d drawn earlier, and helping wash him off. He feels light and loose and pleasant, even if tears still run down his face intermittently. Astrid washes his hair and Wulf helps him dry off, and they curl around him in bed on either side of him, petting his sides and stomach and chest, whispering praises to him. He falls asleep like that, warm and safe and loved.


End file.
